Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Scottish Sun was once glaring, but now it barely got past the surface of the murky body of water I lived my whole life in. As such, I woke up everyday never knowing whether it was sunrise or sunset. Still, what did I care? Time mattered no more in my now idyllic lifestyle.
It was a chore, as often to lift my body out of the seabed. I flapped my four appendages up and down, hard, sending huge waves across the water, scaring away potential breakfast. Some burrowed deep in to the black muddy bed while other swam as fast as they could to the other end of the pond. It was futile to escape my jaws though. Spotting a rather succulent fish at the corner furthest from me, I simply stretched over my neck and swallowed it in one gulp.
I stretched my neck out of the water’s surface, and the bright afternoon light struck me full on the face, dazzling me. Afraid that I would leave traces of my existence, I dropped down without hesitation, my tail only leaving small ripples in its wake.
Ever since we had strayed into this dark, murky body of water and taken abode many million years ago, my family had lived peacefully here, or so I was told. However, at some point in time, there was a great catastrophe, wiping out all others of our kind except us. By remaining hidden under a thick layer of ice that had encased the upper half of the lake, most of the life forms in the loch managed to survive the cataclysmic event. However, slowly but surely, many of my group started dying off. Strange creatures, standing on two of their limbs, would hunt us down as food. I was the only one left now.
Now I could only lead a monotonous lifestyle day after day, and try to avoid being spotted by the beings on the surface. I am sure that they would capture me if they spotted me. Though indeed, a few decades back, I was careless and let slip evidence of my existence. A few of the surface beings spotted me, who had been sunbathing on the road, tired of my boring life and wanting a taste of the bright sun. Seeing me, they were, for a moment, awestruck to have laid eyes on me. However, I knew that their inactiveness would not last for long and so I attempted to return to the loch as quickly as possible, though I was, indeed, extremely clumsy on land. Fortunately no one believed the two and thus no one came after me.For now, I still live, rather peacefully in the loch, although I hear from other inhabitants that many ridiculous legends have been cooked up around me. For example there is the one about my name, Nessie. I’m male! Such a feminine name...
Basically it's a story you would write if you were Nessie. I don't believe in her though...
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Monday, June 9, 2008
The trishaw, as its name implies, is a three-wheeled vehicle. The trishaw was a common means of transport back in the olden days in
The trishaw evolved from the Japanese invention, rickshaws. The three-wheeler varied in design with the seat for the passenger sometimes in front, and in other parts of
I have, in fact, a rather affectionate feeling for the trishaw, due to the fact that I had a very close relationship with it over almost a decade ago, while I was still attending nursery school. I shall now relate that intriguing story to you.
When I just started nursery school, it was not exactly a stone’s throw away from my house. The nursery school was in
Over the year, I learned that in order to supplement his meagre income, he would also work as a rag-and-bone man. He would diligently search for discarded cardboard pieces or aluminium cans, whether in covered HDB apartment void decks or under the blazing afternoon sun.
I can still remember with fondness the time when I was rather sick. However, my mother and I did not know it at all – until I started vomiting in earnest in the trishaw. You would expect the old man to be enraged at seeing his dear rickshaw dirtied in such a manner. Yet, not just did he not have a few sharp words with me; he immediately took me home hastily, all the while saying reassuring words all the way. He even bought two big, red, juicy apples which cost about two dollars each. If he earns about ten cents a day through picking up cardboard pieces, he would have blown away more than a fortnight’s salary on the apples. You can see how caring he is from this example.
Thus ends my relationship with the trishaw rider. I have not seen the man for about seven years; the last time I saw him, he was about eighty years old. I wonder where he is now. I miss him.
And the rickshaws in
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Yeah, I really am getting sorta bored cuz im following the same life pattern every day. LOL
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
1000 hrs: Finding Target Area
The day was calm, the sky was azure, and a special freshness hung in the air, except for a thin mist. Such wonderful weather was rare in 2164.
1100 hrs: Target located
The field, being a lush spot in the country, was chosen for Independence Day ceremonies that year, the day The United States defeated the German invasion in World War Three.
1200 hrs: Scanning Target Area
It was noon. The field was packed, with everyone waiting with bated breath for President Jodhpurs’ speech. The mist could not spoil their day.
1300 hrs: Results Promising. Prepare Soran Ray for Harvesting
The inspiring talk, during which the mist started thickening, was over; celebrations could begin. As Jodhpurs lit the firecrackers, parties started immediately. No fog could deter that joyous mood.
1400 hrs: Charging up Soran Ray. Send soldiers to guard area
A strange zapping sound came from within the fog. No one paid attention—till many heavily-armored guards armed with cruel looking blades and menacing laser weapons emerged.
1401 hrs: Soran Ray ready for Harvest
No one moved. They knew they were powerless against these people.
1403 hrs: Activate Ray and energy harvesters
Suddenly, a huge cannon appeared above the Americans. All the armed guards disappeared. Almost at the same time, before anyone could do more than scream, the cannon sent out a great flare. Nothing survived.
1405 hrs: Retreat to stratosphere
As the fog dissipated, a barren yellow land remained.
And one lonely, withered tree.Just hope it's ok...
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Named after a royal figure and looking like one, Queen Anne 3, when viewed from the sky above the snake-like, winding tributaries of the Amazon, bore herself with regal & grace. The ship’s sleek design was a marvel of modern engineering & economics: more passengers fit, less space wasted on equipment with many spacious viewing decks.
Reagan Groove had spent a fortune on this trip. All for Madeline. He was also making sure he got every farthing he deserved.
He tried to ignore the old spinsters’ shouts while using the binoculars. $50 each! Twice what he could get at home!
He turned slightly & froze. Dark shadows swept down, turning day into night. He had never seen anything like it. An Amazon storm?
Reagan’s heart pounding hard, he called out for a sailor. As if that would help.
Surely the blackness would pass.
All at once, the shapes released a mist-like, black cloud that started to descend on everything.
Black particles covered & choked Reagan, covering his entire body.
Then the needle-like pain started.
He tried to run but every tendon was in excruciating pain.
Then he abandoned all reserve, and tried to swipe the dust off his body, and screamed as his skin melted off him. Blood pouring from every orifice, Reagan collapsed.
The old ladies—everyone on the ship—died the same way Reagan did.
The “dust” continued dissolving in its path, leaving a film of black matter over the once flourishing jungle.